Hearth
by Adi Who is Also Mou
Summary: "You are too young for me, mortal." "You don't need to keep reminding me." Mythological AU.
1. Prologue

_Hearth_

_A/N: This is an AU guys. Serious AU. Might also contain general butchery of some myths, but I'll need to bend some to make this fic work. You'll find out soon enough. Carry on reading!_

* * *

_Prologue_

Snow had fallen in the mortal world. She leaned against the trunk of the tree, watching the snow flakes blanket the earth. Looking up towards the heavens, she sighed. It was rather cold, but she'd rather be here than on Olympus, tending to a hearth that was dying fast. Not for the first time, she wished her family would stop fighting. It weakened her to see the hearth cold and forgotten.

At least here, during what the mortals called Christmas, the hearths of the family were warm, filled with love and affection. Mortals had stopped praying to them long ago, but that didn't mean she couldn't sustain herself. Any prayer blessing the home, the love of family, the hearth fed her, and kept her strong.

"Aren't you cold up there?" A voice said from somewhere below. She startled and looked down, her gaze falling on a small, thin, curly haired youngling with eyes that seemed to glow. She was entranced by their unusual hue. The boy didn't take nicely to being ignored. "I asked you a question, girl. Aren't you cold wearing that flimsy dress?"

"No child," she answered, still reeling from shock. He shouldn't be able to see her. Not many mortals were pure enough. "I am not cold."

"Who are you calling child?!" The boy shouted indignantly. "I'm older than you." She bit the inside of her cheek. She had forgotten the form she had taken, that of a mortal girl barely at the cusp of womanhood.

"What are you doing up there?" he asked again, and she could see from her vantage point that his eyes were burning with curiosity. Maybe if she ignored him, he would go away.

"Hey!" he shouted after a while, "I asked a question!" She merely looked straight ahead, already berating herself for speaking to him.

"What's your name?" She ignored him, but she could still clearly see those eyes in her mind.

"Well, you are in _my_ orchard. I reserve the right to know your name."She glanced down at him. One look told her he wouldn't leave. He had an aura around him that clearly told her that he wouldn't leave until he had solved her mystery. Interesting…for a mortal.

She dropped down in front of him gracefully, her bare feet touching the snow covered ground. He barely blinked, which surprised her once more. "You might be a gypsy," the boy muttered to himself more than her. "They are camping in the field nearby." Almost as an after thought, he added, "Do you want to come in? I expect you wouldn't mind warming up?"

She couldn't help it. She laughed, "Are you normally of the habit of inviting strangers into your house?"

He shrugged, as if he hadn't really thought about it. Mortals and gods alike had this instinct of always realizing that she would cause no harm. She exuded peace and friendliness. He stretched put his hand. "Sherlock Holmes. And since you don't have any name, or you won't tell me, can I name you?"

She giggled childishly. She hadn't felt this much mirth since the time Poseidon had dropped a number of sea creatures on Athena's head in a fit of childish pique. She nodded, still smiling. The boy took her hand without preamble. "Come inside, "he said, dragging her along. "I'll think better at home, and I'll get you a coat. You are making me feel ill."

* * *

She stood in front of the fireplace, her white Grecian knee length dress now wrapped up in furs. She smiled as the boy came back with a glass of milk, a look of intense concentration upon his face. "Drink it." He stated, and gave her a small smile as she sipped it dutifully.

His house was cold, she realized. There was no one home, except the servants. "Where is your family, Sherlock?"

Sherlock's eyes were downcast. It was amazing how one sentence could remove the sparkle from his eyes. "Mother and father are on holiday on the Alps. My brother didn't bother coming back home from school."

Anger bubbled inside her. "And they left you?"

"Mycroft is the only one who can control me," Sherlock mumbled, sitting on the rug and picking at it. "And he was too busy at school; so Mother said I'd be better of here." He paused and then added indignantly, "I don't like skiing."

She sank down on the floor and sat next to the child. She tentatively reached out and brushed her hand against his, "Are you lonely, Sherlock?"

"No," Sherlock snapped.

She leaned over and whispered conspiratorially into his ear. "I'm lonely too."

His sea-green eyes met her chocolate brown ones. "Will you stay with me?" His hands grabbed hers and she could see the depth of his abandonment had affected him.

She shook her head, feeling regret sweep into her. Funny. She hadn't felt anything other than contentment for…eons. Sherlock visibly deflates. "But I'll visit," she says quickly. "It might not be all the time, sometimes I might not see you for years. But-" She rests her hand over his beating heart, "Always know that I'll be here, Sherlock. And I will come."

"I won't be lonely anymore?" he says so innocently that she is tempted, so tempted to leave Olympus up to those pompous, power hungry Gods. Leave and stay here. With this lonely boy with jewels for eyes, and so pure that he can see deities. Watch him grow up and maybe she could change herself-

She hears a distant rumble of thunder echo in her ears. She jolts back from him and it's time to leave. "No you won't," She says defiantly. Let Zeus think what he may. "I'll always be there in your heart. " She pauses and remembers the small memory spans of these mortals. "You will, won't you?"

"I won't ever forget," Sherlock says reverently. She puts down the awe in his voice to her natural aura. "I'll never forget…Molly."

She throws her head back and laughed. "Molly?"

He stands up to tower over her. "Yes. I like the name. My great-grandmother was called Molly."

She stands up as well, matching his height now, and reaches for his hand once more. "Okay. I'm your…Molly."

He leans over suddenly and kisses her, full on the mouth. She jerks back, eyes wide in shock.

"Father does that to mother when she looks at him like that." Sherlock says sheepishly. "Is it bad?"

Is it bad? He has no idea what he has done, this little youngling.

"No…it's fine," She says, a niggle of amusement in the back of her mind that her first kiss was with a mortal- a ten year old mortal at that. "I have to go."

She makes to shrug off the furs Sherlock had given her when he protests. "Mother won't mind," he explains. "Keep them. You won't be cold."

"Okay Sherlock." She smiles at him, feeling younger and freer than she has in eons. This mortal would be something else entirely, if he is already capable of affecting a deity like that. He steps out up to the threshold with her and keeps on looking at her until the snow blocks her from view.

He keeps on rolling her name, the name he had given her, on his tongue over and over again, feeling pleasant warmth fill him up better than hot chocolate. "Molly…Molly…_My Molly."_

* * *

Once more up a tree, the Goddess Hestia leans back against the bark and smiles.

* * *

_A/N: Here it is! Guys, I really hope you like it, and really, all your warm encouragement on Tumblr gave me the courage to post it. Thousands of love, hugs and general fangirly ness to **A Pirate By Any Other Name**, who is a wonderful beta and honestly deserves someone a lot less whiny than me._

_Review please? Because I'm needy and I survive on your comments._

_Love,_

_Adi x_


	2. Olympus

_Hearth_

Chapter 1

_3 years later_

Sherlock Holmes lay back on his bed, his thirteen year old body thrumming in anticipation. The fireplace blazed with a crackling fire, providing the only source of light in his too large room.

He bolted upright as the grandfather clock outside his bedroom rang out twelve times. He grinned in the dim light. It was his fourteenth birthday. And he knew exactly what his gift would be.

The fire roared, scorching the lip of the grate. He could smell it, _her,_ the heady scent of spices and smoke. He focused on the grate and watched as the young girl stepped out of it, dusting off nonexistent ash of her short dress. She smiled at him, her warm brown eyes glowing as the fire dimmed back. He got off the bed at once, rushing towards her, extending his hands in search of hers.

He frowned when he got near enough to her to see the lines on her face. "You look ill, Molly."

"I'm fine, youngling," Molly said in that soft voice of hers. "Many happy returns."

Sherlock cupped her face, eyes boring into hers. Even as he watched, she made the lines disappear. "Is there something wrong, Molly?"

She curled her delicate fingers around his wrists, closing her eyes as his thumb caressed her open lips. "You are too young for me, mortal," she said, a sly smirk gracing her lips, though her eyes still remained closed.

Sherlock huffed in indignation and pulled away. "You don't need to keep reminding me."

Molly laughed a musical sound that made Sherlock shiver for a reason unknown to him. He watched as she walked towards the sofa at the far end of his room, enraptured by how her brown hair swished to and fro slightly in a non-existent breeze.

She curled up on the sofa and smiled at him, her eyes soft. "Aren't you joining me? I want to hear all about your life so far."

Sherlock scoffed. "There isn't anything to say. Where's my present?"

Molly scowled. "I see you after two years and this is what you have to say to me?"

Sherlock crossed his arms across his chest, rooted to his spot in front of the fireplace and pout firmly in place. "And the first thing you had to say to me was that I was too young for you. What in bloody hell do you mean by that?"

"Language, mortal," Molly retorted, though she was smiling mischievously. "I will not be spoken to like that. I'm an Olympian. I can smite you down-"

"No, not really," Sherlock interrupted. "You love us _mortals_ too much to smite any of us down. Well, you love _me _anyway."

This time Molly scoffed, though she turned an amusing shade of red. "That's it. No present for you."

In the blink of an eye she was in front of the fireplace, with one foot in front of the now raging fire. Sherlock grabbed her arm and pulled her against him. "You don't have to be so touchy-" His voice broke suddenly and he had to cough to talk properly again. His body was being less co-operable these days. "I'm sorry." He paused. "May I have my present now?"

She wriggled out of his grip and smacked his shoulder. "For that, little mortal, I will not-" She pulled him into the fire before he had a chance to react.

Sherlock felt as though he was being squeezed through a particularly tiny tire-hole, and he could see nothing but bright orange flames, licking at him dangerously. Oddly enough though, they did not seem to burn him. In truth, Sherlock was more curious than frightened, but he was starting to have trouble breathing. Molly's hand started to twist out of his grip, and he latched on tightly. He did not want to be lost in these flames forever, no matter how interesting they were.

"-Warn you." Molly snickered as they landed to a sudden halt, Sherlock landing firmly on his face. He had a brief impression of being in a room that shone as brightly as the flames, before his vision cleared. Molly's face came into view, against a backdrop of the night sky.

"Welcome to Olympus, Sherlock Holmes."

* * *

They were floating in space, that's what it felt like. Olympus seemed to open up to the Heavens (which, when Sherlock thought about it, did make sense) and even though he was lying on the golden floor of the ancient Gods with the twelve thrones surrounding him, he felt as if he could just jump and be lost among the stars.

Molly came back (he hadn't even noticed that she had left his side for a while) and sat down next to him. She nudged a bowl against him.

"Eh?" Sherlock said dumbly. He had never been interested in astronomy, but he couldn't bear to look away from the sight above him.

"Eat up," Molly said cheerily. "I think you need something to settle your stomach after that trip."

"Not hungry." Sherlock waved away the bowl she was poking him in the ribs with. She frowned.

"Not many mortals would refuse an offering of the Gods, Sherlock."

"I would."

"Of course you would," Molly muttered under her breath and with dismissive wave of her hand, the bowl of spicy Grecian lamb winked out of existence.

"Tell me about these new stars. Mycroft and I do rudimentary astronomy in school, but it's very useless knowledge. Though," Sherlock said thoughtfully. "I must admit I am curious to know about the ones I see here now."

"These aren't at all the stars from your galaxy, Sherlock," Molly explained once she had lain down next to him again, her fingers curling around his. "Most of these are worlds your kind wouldn't even be able to reach. That one-" She pointed to a large star that seemed to glow gold, "-is the land of the race the mortals known as Vikings worshiped." Molly snorted. "They call themselves Asgardians. Hah, barbarians, the whole lot of them, that's what I think."

"I see. Well, that makes sense. If the Grecian Gods are real, then why shouldn't the Norse ones be?"

"They aren't all barbarians though…" Molly continued, evidently lost in her own thoughts. "I have a young friend there. He uses his brains, that one."

"Really?" Sherlock said noncommittally, not liking the way Molly's voice had become wistful. "Is he a close friend, then?"

"We used to be," Molly replied. "Problem is he is a prince there, so we can't really meet as much as we could when we were younger." She paused then continued, "You remind me of him a bit."

"Do I?"

At the tone of his voice, Molly turned sharply to look at him. "Something the matter?"

"No. Maybe you should be here with that _prince_ of yours."

Molly rolled over onto her stomach and crawled even closer to him. She rested her cheek against his chest, her warm body immediately soothing him. He tentatively put an arm around her.

"Oh my little mortal," Molly laughed, "Could it be that you are jealous?"

"Impossible-" Sherlock snapped far too quickly. "I don't get _jealous_."

"I say you do. You wouldn't argue with a Goddess now, would you?"

"Alright," Sherlock said, quickly changing the subject. "If all of the _pagan_ Gods are real, then what about God god? The one Father and Mrs. Hudson are always praying to?"

"Let's just say," Molly said mysteriously. "That we _pagans_ aren't all that powerful as we try to appear to be."

Sherlock was prevented from grilling her on that cryptic remark by the sound of a gate creaking open. Molly cursed in Greek, and wrenched herself away from him, pulling him up to standing in the process.

"Isn't this just…cozy?"

Sherlock gaped as a man with golden hair and blue twinkling eyes strode into view, looking utterly out of place in regular wear of shirt and khaki colored trousers. He noticed that his loafers had a pair of wings sticking out of them

That could only mean…

"Lord Hermes," Molly said, curtsying politely. "I did not know you would be here."

"Hes-I mean Lady Hestia." The God smiled at her, "I just had a message to Lord Zeus." His gaze fell on Sherlock. "I see you have found another mortal to play with."

The cogs of Sherlock's brain started to whirl even faster than usual. What did he mean by-?

Molly seemed too distracted to notice his predicament. "Zeus? Does that mean he's coming here now?"

"Well," Hermes replied, raising his eyebrows at her, "He should be here in a few moments."

"Oh dear. We need to go Sherlock, we really need to go." Molly grabbed his arm and started to drag him back to the grate they had come out of.

"My Lady, it's completely fine, you can bring-"

"I gave up those privileges the moment I gave up my throne, Hermes," Molly snapped with sudden venom. "It would do you good to remember that."

Sherlock had a fleeting glimpse of Hermes' shocked face before the orange flames swallowed him up again.

* * *

Molly was still distracted when they got back to his room, the morning sun just peeking in through the heavy curtains. Sherlock could just feel that she was becoming less Molly and more Hestia at that moment.

Not that he didn't feel a bit conflicted himself either. Hermes had mentioned something about 'another mortal'. What could he possible mean by that?

"I hope you enjoyed your present, Sherlock," Molly said, not even bothering to step out the fireplace this time. She leaned in just as the flames began to eat up her body and kissed his cheek. "Goodbye, my little mortal. I would stay longer, but if my brother is coming to Olympus, I _must_ be there." She squeezed his hand, "Stay safe. I will watch over you."

"When will I see you again?" Sherlock asked, quickly getting the words out even though they seemed to stick at his throat. "And what did Hermes mean by-?" There was a _whoosh_ and the flames died back, leaving nothing but glowing embers in there place.

Someone knocked at the door. "Master Holmes," said one of the parlor maids, "Breakfast is almost ready." Sherlock sighed and began to get ready for a new day. His first day as a fourteen year old. Maybe his next visit from Molly wouldn't be in another year. Maybe she would visit sooner. He could only hope.

* * *

_A/N: Thank you all for your reviews,favs and follows! I am so humbled by the response this fandom has shone me. I'm updating this sooner than expected because my beta is wonderful and needs to be showered in gifts. Thanks, my dear **A Pirate By Any Other Name**!_

_Lots of love to you guys as well- **Rocking the Redhead, katdemon1895, magicstrikes, MorbidbyDefault, Petra Todd, hipkarma, McCaggers, CreamCrop, Sharebear the Deathbear, Zora Arian, Empress of Verace, Cumberbabe, Mivida Garcia, Doctor WTF, Lono, KendraPendragon, Juze, lililoop, JeMS7, theMaelstrom, Aditi and the guests :D**_

_****I'm glad you all tolerate my eccentricities so well. There's a certain prince mentioned here, I'm guessing you all got it? ;)_

_Review?_

_Love,_

_Adi xoxox_


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